


Come a Little Closer

by awritersdaydream



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Games, Intimate conversation, Older man, Party, Truth or Dare, kiss, younger woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2116686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awritersdaydream/pseuds/awritersdaydream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm and Vanessa are helplessly bored at a party, until Vanessa gets an idea that livens their night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come a Little Closer

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea after reading different dark prompts, one of them being a game of 'Truth or Dare'. The timeline is before they meet Victor and Ethan, so shortly after they begin their search for Mina. I incorporated multiple details of Vanessa’s life in here, so if it doesn’t technically match up with the timeline, I’m sorry. It just made more sense for this particular story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!

“What time is it, again?”

Vanessa watches as Sir Malcolm Murray discreetly checks his pocket watch, wincing at the outcome.

“I am afraid the night is still very young, Miss Ives,” he says, tucking back into his suit vest. “I am going to get another drink. Would you like one?”

“Yes, please,” she replies, downing the last of her wine and handing it to him. “Red.”

He nods and walks towards the tables, the excitement of her drink being the only solace for this boring, uneventful evening. Vanessa has been attending these events more often since Sir Malcolm’s return and the community’s desire to celebrate his career. Since she and Malcolm had begun to search for Mina, he insisted that she tag along to any and all events to which he was invited. This way, if there were any clues to Mina’s whereabouts, they could pursue the lead that very night.

Unfortunately, all but one of the events Vanessa attended did not end with prospective leads, and the one that did led them to a sweet shop. She is tired of dressing up and standing in the center of the room, scrutinizing the crowd just to keep herself entertained. Of course, she is capable of conversing with the various guests at the event, but there are only so many topics she can discuss before the whole interaction feels repetitious.

It is only when she sees Sir Malcolm walking back with their drinks that she thinks of an idea to liven the night.

“Thank you,” she says as she takes the glass from his hand. He sips his drink quietly, looking out at the sea of people. The room is filled with chattering, their voices bouncing off of the well-tapered walls, making it difficult to talk. “Would you like to go somewhere quiet?”

He considers her offer for a moment before consenting. She leads them out of the grand room and down a dark hallway. All of the doors are closed and the only light coming through the windows is supplied by the moon. They settle at the end of the hall, where the moon is brightest and the great ballroom is farthest away.

Vanessa leans against one of the closed doors, trying the handle only to be disappointed by its protective lock. Malcolm lingers and studies the patterns on the wall, undoubtedly looking for some kind of explanation, some kind of reasoning behind its presence.

“Let’s play a game.”

He turns around, his expression confused. “What?”

“A game,” she repeats, “Mina and I used to play it when we were little girls. It’s called ‘Truth or Dare’.”

“Are you really suggesting that we play one of your old, childish games in one of the grandest mansions situated in London?”

She sips her wine and nods. “Unless you want to discuss tombs with Professor Hartley? I hear he has been teaching for so long that his stories last for hours.”

He squints his eyes at her, weighing her suggestion. Finally, he smirks and walks over to her side of the hallway. He takes a long sip of his drink, grimacing at its aftertaste, and settles his gaze directly on her.

“All right, Miss Ives,” he says, his voice slowly diminishing to a whisper, “Let’s play your game.”

Shivers run down Vanessa’s spine and she struggles to maintain her composure. “Okay, I’ll start.”

He leans against the patch of wall between rooms, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his eyes alert but skeptical of the games merit.

“Truth or dare?” She asks.

She expects him to say _dare_ , considering his seemingly adventurous personality. Vanessa knows Sir Malcolm, has known him since she was a young, naïve girl. She is certain that he would rather hunt a boar than answer a personal question, which is why she finds herself surprised at his decision.

“Truth.”

She thinks for a moment, wondering whether she should keep her questions light or allow herself some freedom of topics.

She dismisses the latter, realizing she lacks the proper amount of liquid courage for such a thing. Instead, she settles on, “What was your favorite souvenir from a discovery?”

Malcolm rubs his chin, the short hairs slowly being pushed back and forth. Vanessa watches with concentration, suddenly grateful the moon masks her expression.

“A dinosaur foot,” he answers after a moment, and his response is so ridiculous that Vanessa laughs without thinking. “We were not looking for it, of course. We were supposed to find an ancient stone that was worth millions, but that’s not what happened. We caught one of the toes first, and then brushed away the rest of the dirt and found the whole foot. It was amazing.”

Vanessa’s eyes glitter as she takes another sip of her wine, noticing the faraway look in his eyes, the memory visible on his face.

“Your turn.”

Malcolm sighs thoughtfully. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“My vase, the South African one with the leaf patterns covering the sides, did you break it?”

Vanessa remembers the vase well; she also remembers how beautiful the pieces looked on the floor. She smiles into her drink, the memory suddenly coming to life.  
He sees her expression and smirks. “I knew it.”

“Mina and I loved that vase,” she says, “We would take turns holding it while you were on expeditions.”

He laughs to himself, and Vanessa believes that his merry mood is a result of his drink. “Well, you hid it very well.”

“I hide many things well.”

Though the meaning is not lost on Malcolm, Vanessa still sips her drink and avoids his eyes. There are many things that she keeps inside—memories, thoughts, emotions—and most she keeps from him on purpose. Before he can say anything, she poses the question.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Some subjects, however, are harder to keep hidden.

She swallows, the lingering taste of wine lining her throat. “How long was the affair?”

Her hands shake with nervousness and she hesitates to look him in the eyes. He does not say anything, just stares at her, his gaze tight and controlled. She never planned on diving into the forbidden topics, the strained and distressing memories, but the more they talk, the more unanswered questions break through the recesses of her mind. She wonders if he will ask what she means, but she hopes he knows better.

A strange feeling creeps up within her, and she imagines that as soon as the question left her mouth he immediately asked himself, _which one_? She is certain that her mother and Sir Malcolm’s affair, while not exactly common knowledge, is not the only secret he keeps.

It pains her to think of her mother again, her face so pushed to the back of her mind that she strains to produce one, accurate detail. Despite her blurred memories, there is one question that she could never quite quiet: _how long_. She trembles at his lack of response, the silence making her feel less confident than she did a moment ago.

A look of surprise crosses his face; it is a fleeting expression quickly accompanied by defeat. He takes a moment to answer, almost as if he is trying to remember himself.

“Seven years,” he answers, and for some reason his response does not move her in the way she believed it would.

The revelation feels stale, unimportant and far past her time. She nods softly and takes another sip of her wine. Despite her indifference, the liquid runs sour down her throat.

She realizes, sadly, that it is almost gone.

“How did you know?” He asks, snapping her out of her reverie. “Was it your…” he grasps for the right word. “Abilities?”

She shakes her head. “I saw you two in the garden. My abilities came soon after.”

“Do you ever tire of them?”

“Was that your question?” She jokes, “I suppose I choose truth.”

Malcolm’s expression is anything but playful as he takes a step towards her, crossing his arms and waiting for her response.

“Sometimes,” she admits, taking another sip of her wine. “Others no. They help me, guide me, and enable me to hear and to see things people cannot. Some nights, I wake up screaming because the images make me tremble, but most times I am lost within it. I have no concept of people or time; I am just there, at the mercy of the message.”

She looks at Malcolm, only to find him staring intensely back at her. She blushes and looks away. The moment is thick and heavy, slowly draping itself around the dark hallway.

They had not talked like this in a long while.

“It is quite strange, I am aware.”

He shakes his head. “It makes you unique.”

Her heart pounds at his words and she clings to her drink for some sense of calm. She smiles at him, taking the compliment graciously, and swirls the liquid in her cup.

“Not to mention extremely valuable,” he adds, adjusting his position against the door, “especially with Mina.”

“Yes, well, I want to help.” Her once loose smile winds tight at the mention of Mina and the memories of what happened that fateful day. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

She feels light-headed, the lack of food and excessive alcohol finally taking a toll on her body. She clings to her drink though, her mind slipping in and out of thoughts of Mina.

“Do you believe she can be saved?”

He picks his drink up off of the floor, the sound of glass scraping against tile echoing down the hall. He sips it deliberately, his lips pinched against the edge.

“I don’t know.”

She lays a hand on his shoulder. “We will find her, I promise you that.”

He stares at her hand. “I lost her, once before. She ran away after your…indiscretion. We searched for days before finding her on the beach a few miles down the road. I remember feeling jolted, but not terrified. I knew we would find her then, but now, I am not so sure.”

He lays a hand over hers and squeezes. “Why did you do it?”

“I felt deprived,” she replies, slightly shrugging her shoulders. “I wanted to experience love, real and physical love.” She finishes off her wine, inadvertently altering their position. “There was something inside of my body that craved attention and affection, something inside that harbored intense sexual desire. I am not sure what happened, but I let something loose that day, something dark, and I have spent every day since then trying to contain it.”

A feeling of lightness washes over her. She has never spoken of that time in her life, of her wants, until now. She hears Malcolm gulp down the last of his drink and set it down next to hers. She wonders, idly, what it would feel like to be held by him.

Vanessa looks up at him, his gaze burning into her. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he says hoarsely.

“I dare you to kiss me.”

He hesitates for only a moment before leaning into her, the tips of his lips brushing against hers. She shudders.

He pulls back; frustration overwhelms her.

She leans in with more weight, her lips crashing against his in a wave of lust. Malcolm shoves her against the wall, his lips moving against hers quick and rough. Vanessa moans into his mouth, her cheeks rubbing against his beard and creating a delicious sting. His hands move to the bottom of her dress, inching the fabric up her thighs in a rush. One of his fingers touches her bare thigh, his fingers pinching her flesh as he wraps the leg around his waist.

Her limbs burn as he presses her against the wall, his heaviness settling on her, suffocating her until she has to fight for air. She threads her hands in his hair, pulling roughly at the sides.

He groans, and the motion only makes him kiss her harder, grip her tighter.

All at once, the need for air becomes too much, and they pull away breathlessly. Their chests heave as they try to catch their breath, the angry air coming out in short puffs. She leans into him again, her eyes falling shut as her cheek slides against his beard.

“Truth or dare?”

She looks up at him, a smile forming on her lips. _More_ , she thinks, _he wants more_.

“Dare.”

Malcolm takes a step back, disentangling his arms and legs from hers. He straightens his tie and fixes his hair. The air changes, immediately shifting from warm and inviting to cold.

Vanessa feels a storm coming, an end to something that has barely begun.

“I dare you to leave with another man.”

 _I can’t_ , is the message he seems to be trying to convey, _it is too much_ , but Vanessa cannot listen.

An ache erupts in her chest, the hard prick of betrayal flooding her body. Her cheeks burn with humiliation, the entire night tainted with a bitter and clouded spice.

She says nothing, just picks her glass up off the floor and walks towards the ballroom, leaving Malcolm in the center of the hall.

She grabs the first young man she finds (she refuses to succumb to defeat) and smiles when he apologizes for knocking her glass out of her hand. She bites back her anger and throws all of her energy into him, into this innocent man caught in the middle of a dangerous, juvenile game.

Malcolm enters the room, his eyes subtly searching the crowd for her. Her eyes light up like street lamps, encroaching darkness close but unable to penetrate.

She curls herself around this stranger, whispering compliments in his ear and throwing her head back in over-exaggerated laughter. She sees the controlled fury in Malcolm’s eyes; she feels his immense frustration.

She smiles one last time at the man, her mouth perfectly poised, and suggests they leave. He does not need much convincing; he pulls her along with him as soon as she finishes speaking. Malcolm’s gaze follows them out, and Vanessa tries not to dwell. She shoots him one last triumphant glare as she allows herself to be led out of the room.

By the time she walks through the door and climbs the stairs, sunlight still far from rising, he is fast asleep.

 


End file.
